


Light Spot

by moodwriter



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Drugs, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flirting between friends. Sleeping in the same bed. Future tour fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Spot

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the sweet wonderful aislinn. Thank you. <3

Tommy is a pocket fairy. That's his nickname for the second tour, and this time it was Sutan who gave him the name. It started because they finally managed to do the makeup tutorial for the fans while riding from Champaign to Chicago one night. 

Sutan dressed him up as a girl, made him look the part, and filmed the whole thing, showing his tricks. They didn't do the tuck, but pretty much everything else was thrown into that hour and a half video of Tommy becoming Thomasina. And then, Sutan just pointed out that yes, he was a pocket-sized fairy. 

Adam liked the look, so much in fact that he wanted a picture for his private collections. And Tommy posed for them, let them all take pictures because who gave a damn. 

He is a bit of a slut sometimes. 

The thing is, they've known each other long enough that it's easy to fall into old habits, like sleeping in the same bed after long nights out. He wakes up often enough trapped under Adam's heavy arm. 

They are both single again, and it's the one thing they haven't talked about. Maybe because it's useless. Loss is a loss, no matter how many times you turn it around. The one thing Tommy has learned over the years, though, is that self-medicating pain is not the answer. He drinks sometimes, but only sometimes, and never when he feels like a complete loser. When he feels like that he crawls under the covers of Adam's bed and just exists. 

Adam on the other hand is putting all his energy into working. He does nothing but interviews, vocal practices, photo shoots, promo work, anything that will keep him busy. He's a thin man, narrowed to the point that he's almost invisible in his personal life, but for some reason Tommy isn't worried. Adam is still warm when he curls next to him to sleep, and the arm around his waist feels good and solid. 

This time, they are heading to New York, and it's raining like hell, thunder tearing open the sky above them. They've stopped to eat in a diner in the middle of nowhere, and he's shivering between Adam and Isaac because no matter how fast they ran from the buses to the diner's door he managed to get wet and miserable. 

He's having pancakes with syrup, and there's a straw in his Coke, and he feels like twelve again. They did road trips with his parents, and he slept on the backseat of their car with his sister, and they ate in diners, and right now, he misses all that so much he chokes. 

He's coughing, and Adam hits his back with an open palm. It hurts. He blinks fast because hell, he's not gonna cry in front of everyone. 

"You okay?" Adam asks, concern in his eyes. 

"Yeah." He takes a few long breaths, calming his frantic heart. "Yes, fine."

Adam leaves his hand on the small of his back for the rest of the meal, reassuring him with the silent gesture. It also tells everyone else that Tommy is his property. He doesn't get how that always happens. He manages to keep the distance when they're not on the road, but every time their lives reduce to nothing but hotel rooms and endless gigs he becomes Adam's property. It's not intentional, and he sure as hell doesn't want it to happen because needing someone is not a good thing in his book. It's like religion: depending on something that's not real. 

He eats his food, listens to the conversations, laughs in all the right places, but all he can think about is Adam's hand touching his back. Everything goes back to that, and even when he goes to the bathroom it doesn't leave him. Adam is there. Marks and ownership. He doesn't know what kind of branding Adam uses, but it's there. He has no say in the matter. 

When they go back to the buses he follows Adam to his room. He's tired, and he misses everything about his old life, life before fame and bad relationships and death. He misses his old self. He misses the friendships he had, the dreams that weren't even spoken aloud yet. He misses all the bands he used to follow, all the talented people who couldn't take the pressure. It's a weight on top of his heart, around his lungs, in his head. He feels so heavy he can barely move. 

"You haven't been sleeping," Adam says quietly. "You need sleep to function properly."

Tommy looks at Adam, defenseless. Adam is right. Everything about his life becomes unbearable when he doesn't sleep. He nods, but says nothing. 

"What would make you sleep?" Adam is getting rid of his clothes. 

It's almost one a.m.

A bath? Piano music? A good lay? Who the fuck knows? "I'll sleep eventually," he finally says, stripping, too. He sleeps in his briefs; Adam wears nothing to bed. It's always been like that, and at first it made him a little iffy. Not anymore. Adam is the nicest guy; he never does anything wrong. 

Adam is already lying on the bed, under the blanket, switching off the night light, and Tommy follows soon after. He doesn't know why he sleeps in Adam's bed. He has no idea how it even started, but it's been the best part of the tour so far. 

"Do you want a massage?" Adam asks after a while, after they've been silent long enough for sleep. It just hasn't happened yet. "Would that help?"

Tommy laughs, staring at Adam in the darkness. "If you want. It can't make it worse."

Adam moves, turns Tommy on his stomach, then sits on top of him, the blanket between them. Tommy puts his hands under his head, turns his face to the side, and just breathes. 

He's tense, but Adam's touch makes him loosen up, and soon he's nothing but pleased sounds and relaxed muscles. Adam is gentle, not trying to break the knots, not trying to push them out of his body, just caressing him in a persistent way, and everything starts to feel more normal, better. 

"Good?"

Tommy nods, completely lost in the sensations. 

Adam doesn't stop until he's a compliant happy mess in his arms. He feels too good, too satisfied to even move, and Adam kisses his neck when it's over, makes him shiver under the touch. "Thank you," Tommy whispers, falling, falling, falling, and then he's finally sleeping after all those restless nights. 

When he wakes up Adam is there, so close, his leg thrown carelessly over Tommy's thighs, his arm around Tommy's midriff. Tommy's own arm is draped over Adam's neck, and Adam's head is close to Tommy's chest. He can't believe they've slept like that. 

Adam stirs, and moves without opening his eyes, kissing Tommy, and Tommy lets him. He stops it only after Adam starts to turn him on his back, starts to push him down, needing more. 

He just puts a hand between their mouths, and Adam stops, then smiles. "Morning." Adam doesn't pull away, just lies on top of him, lazy more than anything. He's hard, but Tommy doesn't mind. 

"I slept through the night," he says softly, beyond grateful. "Your hands are magical."

Adam's smile feels good against his neck. "I know."

Adam is heavy, and they really should get up, but he feels too comfortable. He feels safe, and that's something rare. "Order room service. I don't wanna get up." He sounds whiny, and it makes him bite his lip to keep the laughter in. 

"Can't. Bus." Adam nuzzles his neck, puts his hands under Tommy's head. "Too good."

The fact that Adam is naked should make him at least uncomfortable, but it's just natural. How they found this weird little headspace is beyond Tommy, but he enjoys it every time it happens. Outside this bed, he's at Adam's mercy, feeling weak and owned. In it he feels content and safe. Maybe it's because Adam doesn't take it seriously, just teases him as much as he lets him. 

Adam nips at his skin, bite-licks his neck, and he just tilts his head to the side, sighing. "Mmmm... You taste good. Salty."

And maybe now it's a little too much, Adam all over him, his scent, his hands, his dick, everything. Maybe he shouldn't be this comfortable with it when he's not really comfortable at all. 

Before he panics, Adam rolls off him, the back of his left hand still touching Tommy's stomach, sliding lower to the waistband of his briefs. He's thinking about breathing, trying to stay calm, stay focused, stay soft. 

"Say something next time," Adam says, his voice warm. "I won't mind. I get carried away."

"It's cool," he says, equally warm. 

Adam turns on his side, staring at him, his blue eyes searching. "You, me, weed, tonight?"

"Anytime." He grins at Adam, loves the way Adam's mouth curls into a smile.

Adam has interviews, radio time, meet and greets, and Tommy does window shopping with Isaac. It's cold, but he's dressed warm, and the brisk weather only makes his mind clearer. They have fancy-ass coffee in a fancy-ass cafe, and it's all good. The gig is not until tomorrow. 

That night, he goes to Adam's hotel room. Adam is on the phone, doing one last interview, and he just waves his hand, asking silently for Tommy to come in. 

He never gets used to the hotels. They are all so perfect, and Adam always has something extra in his. This one has a full sized fridge with amazing treats. 

Tommy takes a beer out of the fridge and then snatches a bowl of strawberries, too. He thinks his taste buds might explode after this mix. 

He wanders around the suite, and finally finds himself on the balcony. He sits on one of the cushion covered chairs, waiting for Adam to get free.

"Did you have a good day?" Adam asks, and manages to startle Tommy. He nods anyway, tilting his head back, looking up. Adam sits next to him, and hands him an unlit joint. He takes it, puts it between his lips, and waits for Adam to light it. 

He inhales, long and slow, and relaxes against the cushion, feeling mellow already. It's not something they do often, but it's something they do together, not with other people, not while on tour. 

Tommy gives the joint to Adam, their fingers brushing when Adam takes it. They smoke for a while in silence, and then Adam goes back inside to put some music on. When he comes back Tommy looks up. "There's a halo around your head," he says, the light of the room illuminating Adam. 

"You can't be high yet." Adam sits next to him, brushes a hand through his hair, and takes the joint from him. He looks at Adam when he inhales, and then lets the smoke come out of his mouth. Tommy touches his lips, tries to catch the smoke. "Are you serious?" Adam asks, soft and warm.

He's not there yet; it's just curiosity and exhaustion. "Nah, just enjoying the view."

Adam laughs, takes another hit, and puts a finger under Tommy's chin. He goes willingly, sucking the smoke into his own mouth, and then they are kissing. 

His elbow is against the wooden armrest of his chair, and Adam's finger is still holding him, tilting his head, and he feels it in his chest, the tight longing. 

He pulls back after a while, hiding behind his fringe, leaning back like nothing happened, and Adam doesn't say anything, just stubs out the joint, sitting there, emanating power and charisma. 

Tommy wonders what's going on between them. 

"Tell me... What are your limits now?" Adam is close, his face only inches away from Tommy's. 

The weed is making his mind race; he can't seem to catch up. What can he say? He has no idea. "I don't know."

Adam uses one finger to push Tommy's fringe back. His pupils are dilated. "How do I know what's too far?"

He doesn't know that either. He shrugs. 

"Oh, Tommy, you're making this difficult." There's a sweet smile on Adam's face. 

He knows that. He also knows that Adam could put a collar on him and it wouldn't make him any more Adam's slave than he already is. He wants to laugh at that, and then he does because they are friends. They've always been just friends. 

Adam looks at him for a little while longer, and then bursts into giggles. Maybe it's the weed; maybe it's the tension between them that's been steadily building during the tour. Constant touching. Constant closeness. He's yearning to belong. They both are. 

Then Adam is kissing him again, and this time it's the weed, making him horny, making him feel more: Adam's hair tickling his face, Adam's fingers at the back of his neck, the slight stubble on Adam's chin. And that tongue, it's doing evil things to him, and maybe there's a direct line from his mouth to his lower belly because there's a burning sensation there, and it feels a little like he's getting recharged. 

He pulls back again, panting, his lips still touching Adam's, almost, just a whisper between them. "You shouldn't kiss me like that," he says because words need to happen right now. 

"Like what?" Adam's voice has a raw edge to it. 

"You already have everything of me. Don't take this too." He's not sure if he means it. Maybe. Maybe not. 

"Then tell me to stop." Adam nips at his lips, but doesn't kiss him. He waits for Tommy to push him away. 

He should. "Okay..." He sighs. "Okay. Kiss me."

Adam does, and it's so slow it's nothing like he's ever done before. Adam pulls back a little every time Tommy tries to make it deeper, and finally he just lets Adam do what he wants, lets him kiss his lips, lets him lick his mouth gently, softly, like Adam's is trying to coax him out of his shell. 

It's working, and he's not sure if he wants that. 

The music seems to come alive around them, and it almost feels like the notes are caressing his skin. It tickles, but he doesn't want to laugh. He's too fascinated by Adam, the way it never becomes too heated or too much, just something pleasurable. 

He grabs Adam's arm, holds onto his shirt, his thumb pressing too hard into Adam's skin. It's not like he's experimenting. Adam is the only exception in his long line of failed relationships with the opposite sex. Maybe it's a pattern he needs to break. 

Adam's hand at the back of his neck does something that tilts his head back, and then Adam is licking his throat, and his mouth is free to make sounds. He's panting hard, aching, and then Adam bites his neck, sucks and bites, and Tommy grabs his hair because fuck, that feels intrusive. 

"Stop me," Adam whispers against his ear. "Anytime."

He could. He doesn't, just holds onto Adam, and because he doesn't stop him Adam licks his ear, almost like trying to push his tongue under the cartilage earring, and then he pulls at it with his teeth. It doesn't hurt, but it's a dull pressure that makes him concentrate on nothing but what Adam is doing, like it's something dangerous. 

Adam still isn't forceful, still isn't asking anything, just giving, making him feel, and it's not something he can handle. 

He puts his hand on top of Adam's heart and pushes. 

Adam kisses his cheek, rests his forehead against Tommy's, and says, "Wanna do crosswords?"

Tommy laughs because what the fuck? "Sure," he says, and Adam pulls him up, takes his hands, and walks backwards to the suite. They end up on the bed, and Tommy isn't sure if that's a good idea. He says nothing, though. 

They sit close to each other, and Adam puts an arm around his shoulders, then tells Tommy to hold the booklet full of crosswords. "Okay, one - down - artist Picasso?" Adam says, holding the pen over the number one. 

"Pablo?" 

Adam beams, and writes it down. "Are you good at these?"

"My grandma made me do them every summer." He had complained, but secretly he had always loved them. Maybe because he got to spend time with her all by himself.

"Let's do the easier ones first. Six - down - Barbie's man?"

"Seriously?"

"You have a sister. You should know."

Tommy bites his lip. "Ken."

"You know your men," Adam says, kissing the side of his head. He looks at the list of questions again and reads, "Eleven - down - spotted horse."

"How many letters? Oh... Pinto." Tommy glances at Adam. "Write it down."

Adam does, then reads the next one, "Twenty-one - down - fibber."

"Liar." He leans his head against Adam's shoulder, and then stays there the whole time they do the crossword, Adam asking questions and Tommy answering them. They actually manage to finish it, and Tommy feels a little proud. He still has this silly skill. 

Adam drops the booklet on the floor, and then lies down, pulling Tommy with him. "Wanna sleep here tonight?"

He hadn't even thought of the other option. He just curls next to Adam, and that's his answer. 

Adam has his arm around Tommy's back, pulling him even closer, and they lie there for a long while, not talking. The weed makes him sleepy, but he wants to stay with Adam, wants to feel that hand drawing circles on his skin. 

"Have you ever thought that death might not be the end?" Adam asks suddenly, and Tommy tilts his head back to look at him. 

"What do you mean?"

"Like... What if some part of the human consciousness lives even after death? And I don't mean God or paradise or anything. Just... science. What if a part of the human body is the mind that survives death, and goes somewhere."

"Where would it go?" He's humoring Adam now. His own answer would be simple, but he lets Adam go further. 

"I don't know. It's weird that we already have this one place to live. Could we even imagine this if we weren't here? So how can we imagine something that could support the spirit."

Tommy moves closer, nuzzles Adam's neck, and then says, "The brain creates the mind. If the brain is gone so is the mind."

"Scientists don't know what the mind is. They have theories, but they don't know."

He thinks about the things he's read. "If you suffer a brain damage your mind changes; you're not yourself anymore. Brain is the hard drive, and mind is the software. If the hard drive breaks the software is useless. When we die there's no more oxygen for the brain, and the mind can't support itself. Life ends."

Adam laughs. "You're sure about this?"

"It's logical, but no, I won't tell you: 'This is how it goes.' because nobody knows. But the most logical answer is usually the right one. Nothing supports the other options except people's need to hold onto that hope. I'm just glad it ends one day, that I don't have to live forever, that all this will be over. Until then I'll live the best life I can, though."

"You're very talkative today," Adam says, then kisses the top of his head. 

Tommy snorts. "Well, I've been thinking about these things. You have no idea what kind of questions people ask from me." He can feel Adam's laughter, and it makes him smile.

"But let's pretend the mind is some kind of matter that survives the death of the body. What would you do then? What would you like to happen to us?"

He hasn't really thought about it because he's never needed it. He's never feared death. It's actually one of the few things he hasn't feared. "Well... If it could be anything, I'd like to have a feeling of closeness to everyone, and I'd love to see and feel the whole universe, become a conscious part of it. And I'd love to feel complete."

"I like that."

"Enough philosophy for one night?" He pushes with his feet to get closer to Adam, and Adam makes it so easy, pulls until he's lying on top of him.

"Yeah..." Adam whispers against his lips, and all he has to do is lean down, and they are kissing again. Adam is holding onto his arms, his fingers reaching around his biceps. It makes him feel small, and it's nothing new. Adam has always managed to tower over him, with his strength, with his height, with his spirit. 

Adam pushes him on his back, follows right away, and Tommy is under him, his knees bent, fallen to the sides. Adam is thorough, kissing him like it's the last time they'll ever do this, and it feels desperate somehow. Tommy tilts his head back because he wants Adam to say something, but Adam only bites his chin, and stares at him. Then he moves, his eyes never leaving Tommy's, trying to see what's going on inside his mind. Tommy wants to close his eyes, but he can't. Adam won't let him. 

It hurts, and he bites his lip because it feels good, too. "Fuck..."

Adam licks the underside of his chin, but continues to look at him, continues to thrust against him, and it affects him, makes his breath catch. 

Then Adam takes his nipple between his fingers, and plays with it, gentle but persistent, and it's good, so, so good. 

"Adam... Oh..." He pushes his feet against the mattress, creates more friction, and Adam licks his open lips, but still just stares at him, not letting go. 

This should stop. He should stop it. 

"Please," Adam whispers. "I want to see you."

Either he lets go, or he stops this now. How he ended up here is not something he can explain. Then Adam teases his nipple again with his finger, moving it quickly, creating pressure and pleasure, and he would tilt his head back if Adam wasn't holding him at place with his chin.

"Please," Adam says one last time, and he chooses to let it happen. He cries out, his body trembling, and when it happens, Adam kisses him, takes him through the orgasm with his mouth, holds him at the peak so long he thinks he might just die. 

"Thank you." Adam kisses his forehead, puts his hands under Tommy's head, and just holds him close. "Thank you."

He's not even breathing, too stunned to do anything. He can't think at all; he's refusing to think about this. 

"Sleep?" Adam stays mostly on top of him, just slides his hips down to the mattress, his leg over Tommy's crotch. He doesn't protest because that would mean he would have to acknowledge something, and he doesn't want to. Instead he closes his eyes, and hopes sleep will steal his mind. 

He wakes up only to realize Adam is still there and his pants feel disgusting. His back is sweaty, he has a pounding headache, and everything that happened last night is coming back to him now. How very responsible of him. 

Adam is still asleep, his right hand at Tommy's neck, fingers brushing his skin. Every part of Adam's body that's touching his feels somehow strange; everything about this feels like he's messed up. He wants to stop existing. He doesn't want to be here when Adam wakes up, but he won't be going anywhere because too much of Adam is way too much on top of him. 

"Adam, wake up." His one hand is free, and he uses that to push at Adam's shoulder. "Get up. I need to go to the bathroom."

Adam turns on his back, but doesn't open his eyes, and that's perfect. He hopes Adam continues to sleep until he's able to sneak out. 

Tommy goes to the bathroom, peels his pants and briefs off, cursing a little because everything's stuck, and then takes a leak. He knows he should get out, but he wants to shower first. 

He pours a lot of shower gel on his hands and uses that to wash the dried come off. His heart is beating fast, and he just can't let his mind be because it immediately wanders back to last night, back to Adam moving on top of him, kissing him, staring at him with those blue-green eyes. He has to focus on mundane things, like what he's going to do next and how he's going to get breakfast. He has no idea what time it is. 

When he sneaks out of the bathroom, his jeans and T-shirt on, the disgusting briefs scrunched in one hand, Adam is sitting on the bed, staring at him. "Everything alright?" Adam asks.

Tommy nods. Yeah, everything's peachy. He looks for his shoes and jacket, tries to locate his phone and wallet, but he's not finding anything. Nothing works, and he's panicking. 

"Hey..." Adam's voice is soft, and it annoys him. 

He glances at Adam, angry and frustrated and so fucking scared. He doesn't say anything, though, just goes to the balcony because he remembers taking his phone out at one point. He finds it on the table there. Now his hands are full, and he's still missing a few items. Not good. 

"It's five in the morning," Adam says from the suite, and for a brief moment he thinks about climbing over the railing. Heights and him, they are not friends, though. 

Adam is standing at the door now, fully clothed, too, but he's still intimidating, still so fucking _him_. "What's going on, Tommy? Talk to me, please."

He slumps on one of the chairs, defeated. He's not getting out now. "I fucked up." 

Adam looks surprised. "No, you didn't."

"We don't have sex. We're not together. We're not going to be together. We're not..." He empties his hands on the table, staring ahead, feeling so, so weird.

Adam takes a step closer, but doesn't touch him. "If anybody fucked up it's me," Adam says. "I shouldn't have done that. It's all on me. I'm sorry."

He looks at Adam, maybe the first time ever. "I don't know what's happening."

Adam kneels in front of him, takes his hand, and bows his head. Tommy hesitates only for a moment, and then pets Adam's hair. 

There are no words, nothing that can fix this. 

For a while they are awkward, even on stage, even when they are hanging out with everyone, but especially when they are alone. Most of the time, they avoid being alone, and Adam doesn't try to kiss him anymore. Tommy doesn't blame him. It's a narrow line, and they've crossed it now. Adam doesn't know his limits anymore, and neither does he. But they still exist, and they make them very cautious.

One night, he follows Adam to his room at the back of the bus even though he hasn't done it for the past two weeks. 

Adam says nothing, but he's careful, giving Tommy a lot of space in that small room. 

He's not here to mess with Adam's mind. He just feels like he can't stay away any longer. 

"Do you still like me?" Adam asks, sounding small, and it's the weirdest thing he's ever heard. Adam has big lungs, big voice, big mouth. That was not him. 

"Of course." He takes off his hoodie, but leaves the T-shirt and sweatpants on. He's not going to sleep in less clothes than this. 

"What is this?" Adam leaves his pajama pants on, too, and Tommy knows it means Adam is more stressed over this than he's shown so far. He's showing it now, though. 

They settle on the bed, both lying on their sides, facing each other, and Adam switches the light off. 

He bites his lip, then whispers, "A very few people make me feel like I can't stay away from them. You are one of them."

"You're not giving me much to work with. Do you want anything? Anything at all?"

He finds Adam's hand under the blanket, holds onto it. "Relationships suck, or I suck at them. I don't know."

"I'm at my wit's end," Adam says, his voice almost gone. "At first it was just something nice, like before, like when we first met and had nothing and made something together because we could. But it's different now. I don't want to hurt you, and I think I did."

Tommy squeezes Adam's hand. "Hey... You would've stopped if I'd asked you to. I didn't want you to stop. I never want you to stop. All I want is to be whatever you want me to be, but... I don't think that's good either. I don't think I'm very balanced. I don't think I even know what I want. You're the only guy I've ever wanted. I don't know. I feel like you opened something inside me that night, and I haven't been able to close it after that. I don't know what it is. I'm not sure if I even want to know."

"I don't want to fall for you if you don't want anything," Adam says slowly. "I can't just play whenever it's convenient for both of us. And right now... I want more, and it scares me. I didn't mean to go here with you, but you're so tempting." Adam brushes Tommy's hair off his face. "I can't help it."

He wants to tell Adam that it's going to be alright, that they'll figure this out, that something will bring balance, but he has no answers. How can he explain any of this to anyone else when he doesn't understand it himself? He wants to be close to Adam. He wants to be the only one that matters. But that's as far as he can go. Everything else is a blurry mess inside him. "Please don't ask me to stay away." He pulls Adam's hand closer to himself, needing the reassurance. 

Adam looks shocked in the darkness, his mouth slightly open, like he's stopping himself from saying something. 

"Don't make me leave." He knows he's begging, but with Adam he's not beyond that. "I only want you to be happy, but... I can't do that."

Adam is still for a moment, then wraps his arm around Tommy's middle, and pulls him close. "I won't, okay? It's not that. Just tell me what I can't do. You have to tell me."

He bites his lip, and makes the decision based on everything he knows. "You can do anything."

"But-"

"You can do anything." He buries his face in Adam's neck. "Anything." 

"But... You were scared."

"I am."

Adam is quiet for a moment, but because he doesn't continue Adam says, "This might change everything..."

"Yeah, what if it doesn't work? What if I suck at this too? What if you find something better? What if this is a big mistake, and I'm only thinking I can do this?"

Adam kissed his hair, wrapping himself tighter around Tommy. "What if it's just rebound? What if we destroy a friendship? What if we're bad together? What if we'll end up hurting each other?"

Tommy nods. "I can't stay away. I can't."

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be the straight guy who messes with your head. You're tearing me open... I can't stop coming back." 

Adam strokes his back, holds onto his hair, breathes with him. "Please don't ever stop coming back."

"Okay," he whispers, and means it so fucking much his heart might burst. "Okay." 

Adam exhales, long and deep. "I wrote a song about you. I recorded it alone, even played the piano... It's called Light Spot. Such a silly thing, but I had to get it out. Wanna hear it?"

He tilts his head back, looks at Adam in the eyes. He can't believe what he's hearing, can't believe that Adam did something like that long before they ended up here. 

Adam reaches for his phone on the bedside table, finds the recording, and presses play. The song fills the small room, twists his heart, makes him emotional, and it's so new, so fragile. Adam sounds like he's pouring his heart into that song. He sounds raw and beautiful and open, private. 

Tommy can't say anything. He's just biting his lips together, trying to hold back the emotions. 

"That's you," Adam says, sweet like he can't believe that Tommy is right there. 

He puts his arms around Adam's neck, still unable to talk. He just gets as close as he can. 

"So stay, please. Stay with me." 

Easy. Like smiling to the treetops.

 

The End


End file.
